


Saw you downtown, singing the blues

by Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish



Series: Inktober 2020 SanCor fest [13]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Final Fantasy XV, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, F/M, Reunions, it’s about the Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27030799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish/pseuds/Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish
Summary: Inktober prompt #15: OutpostSansa rides into town, determined to find her friend with the help of a lost love.
Relationships: Sansa Stark/Cor Leonis
Series: Inktober 2020 SanCor fest [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948696
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Saw you downtown, singing the blues

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, the story doesn’t exactly link to outpost, but whatever, here take it.

The air was suffocatingly hot, with wind that did not offer any reprieve, as it blew the sand up from the desert floor and directly at her. But years of experience as her combating it all well, with scarves wrapped around her nose so she could breath, and a wide hat to shade her eyes from the bright, blinding sunlight. Her water skein was still half full, and she could spot her destination in sight with relief. Or it could be a mirage from the sun and heat, but instincts say otherwise.

Her body was sore from constant riding on her horse, Lady, but time was of the essence. She had left her homestead three days ago, following a tip from her sheriff, of a bounty hunter that could help her cause. At first she was unsure, until she heard his name. After that, it was only how fast she could pack and leave to get to _him_.

Nudging her horse faster, she reached the town in no time, trotting through the sand scratched buildings to find a place to rest her horse. A rough shaped barn held many visiting horses, and Sansa was happy to pay for a night’s stay if that meant Lady would get good food and water, as well as rest out of this weather.

And then with a tip of her hat in thanks to the stable man, she made her way to the saloon that she spotted on her way in, knowing that would be the best place to find a bounty hunter or at least information on their whereabouts. She just prayed that he was still there and hadn’t left town yet. The wind was less wild now, with the buildings and trees creating a barrier, but it was still faint, making her skirt wave in the breeze.

Sansa did not know what this town was like, so with the familiar and comforting wait of her gun hidden under her trench coat, she pushed open the doors to the saloon. Only a few patrons looked up at her entrance, but Sansa ignored them all, searching for the one man she needed to talk to. Giving a polite nod to the bar man, she made her way to the back of the saloon.

Reaching up to untangle her scarves from her face, she allowed them to rest around her shoulders. Stepping past tables, listening to the murmurs of the patrons going about their business, she finally spotted her target.

Sat in the corner, where the shadows covered his face, he cut an intimidating figure. He was dressed all in black, and fond amusement rose in her at how impractical it was. But she knew him well enough to know that he continue to wear dark clothing no matter what. Her boots came to a stop by the table, standing across from him, and waited for the man to tilt his head up, showing his face.

“Cor Leonis.” She murmured softly. She observed how his hand came up and took off the black hat, setting it down on the table. Unobscured, Sansa hid a smile at how short his hair still was, and the frown lines looking deeper. “You’re a hard man to find.” Sansa continued, and took a seat across from him. He looked a little wide-eyed and shocked at her sudden appearance, and Sansa was smug at how she managed to catch him off guard, as it was a hard task to do normally.

“ _Sansa_.” He breathed, disbelief making it’s way through his voice, and she held back the need to swoon, always loving the sound of her name on his lips.

The last time they saw one another was when they were fifteen and sixteen, and he was moving out of their hometown, heading south west. He promised her he would make a fine living, earn good money, before coming back to marry her. She promised she would wait for his return, promising to stay faithful

But it never happened.

He ended up messing with crime, and his only option was to be hung or to be a bounty hunter, under the thumb of the law. Shamed, he would not return to her, and her father was very much against their possible marriage after that.

She could not find him, no one willing to direct her to Cor the Immortal, and she agonised over never seeing him again. She weeped and swore she would never marry, never settle down, unless it was will him and him alone.

And now she was here, twenty-three and asking him for help.

Gripping her hands tight under the table, she looked up into his grey-blue eyes, and stated helplessly, “I need to hire you for something Cor.”

Slowly, he leant forward, and the air around him became heavy with rage, as he growled lowly, “Who hurt you?” His hand had slide across the table and Sansa ached, wanting to take the hand offered.

Her heart fluttered as well at the protective tone in his voice, and gave a weak smile in return, “Besides emotionally, it wasn’t me that was hurt. It’s Jeyne.” It gratified her that Cor still had an anger simmering at hearing that it was her dearest friend that was in danger instead. The girls were always together when possible, Cor most likely remembering that from their childhood. Slowly, Sansa reached over and grasped his hand tight, and pleaded, “She was taken by Ramsey Bolton, and I don’t know where to find him or how to get her back. I _need_ you, Cor.”

Their silence was heavy, charged with the unresolved emotions held for one another, and Sansa continued to stare imploringly into his eyes.

He looked down at her hand, her left hand, and softly, his thumb stroked over her bare ring finger. Her exhale was shuddered, as his eyes returned to hers, a vulnerability bright in his gaze. _Hope._

Sansa murmured softly, once again looking back at their touching hands. “I _never_ stopped waiting, Cor. I even tried to search for you.” She assured him, squeezing his hand tightly.

Licking dry lips, he looked away, ashamed, though he continued to grip her hand just as tightly. “I’m sorry, Sansa. I thought that-“He choked, before taking an unsteady breath. “That I was, _unworthy_ , of your affections.”

Feeling furious at his words, she knew exactly where they came from. Her father, she loved the man, but sometimes he was so quick to judge.

She gave his hand a firm shake, getting him to look back up at her. “You are _never_ unworthy of my love, Cor.” She promised, unyielding against his wilting posture of self-deprecation.

He swallowed heavily, before quickly snatching his hand back and rose from his seat with a loud scratch of wood. He had a blank expression, jarring from the open, soft look from before. Firmly placing his hat on his head, he gestured silently for her to follow him. She trailed after his retreating back with soft sorrow in her eyes, before finally standing up and leaving the saloon with him.

The burst of hot air after being in the cooler saloon was startling, with the sunlight blinding after sitting in the low light, and it took some squinting to readjust to it. Firmly circling her scarves back around her head, she turned to Cor with a questioning look.

He only looked at her from the corner of his eye, and cleared his throat, word professional. “A few days ago I heard a rumour of Ramsey settling in a town in the mountains up north. Should be a few days ride from here.” At her serious nod of understanding, he nodded again and suggested, “Best to gather supplies and we head out earlier morning tomorrow.”

And then he left her side, most likely going to the town Inn. She sighed softly, knowing it would take awhile to break through the walls he had built to protect that kind heart of his. No matter how tough and terrifying his exterior was, Cor was still that sweet boy who helped her stand up after she fell into a pile of hay when they were children.

Closing her eyes, she let the dry wind cool some of the sweat on her brow, before marching after him.

**Author's Note:**

> Yearning!   
> Short and sweet compared to yesterday’s prompt.


End file.
